


Something Wicked

by Zarathis_Wolfsister



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Assassins, Blue Spirit? More like Dark Spirit, F/M, Zuko Needs a Hug, Zuko-torture, dark Zuko, hurt zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23406700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarathis_Wolfsister/pseuds/Zarathis_Wolfsister
Summary: Modern, AU ATLA fic))  Katara Crowe is a young nurse in New York City, just trying to take care of her Gran-Gran and pay her rent. An old friend calls her, Toph Bei Fong, who needs assistance on a strange wound. Meanwhile, in Toph's world she might have / or might not have heard the person that murdered her mother.  But she can't identify them. At least not by sight.
Relationships: Aang/Toph Beifong, Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not now any of the Avatar: The Last Airbender characters. None. None!. This work of fiction was made purely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.  
A/N: No idea where this story is going. I hope to move on with it. I haven't seen Korra, nor do I plan to. 

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He moved through the night like a ghost. Soundless, the figure in black crouched atop the doorway of a balconey. “Mommy, tell Ling to stop pulling my hair!” The ending of the demand accelerated into a screech, most likely for the one known as Ling pulling hair. The shadow didnt flinch at the assault on the quiet night despite his heightened hearing. 

“Jena, come take the children, please!” More child-like squeals were heard before a slap of skin on skin then wailing. The shadow only cocked it’s head to the right, a single neck muscle ticking behind the smiling demon mask.

The rustling of cloth could be heard then a gentle crooning as the nursemaid took the screaming children away. Her heavy footfalls descdening the steps to the third floor of the house. A few beats of silence then a muffled thump. Then sobbing.

The shadow expertly grabbed the ledge of the doorway to flip and twist in mid-air on the balconey. Again, there was no sound to give away his presence. Not likely the woman would have heard it, though in her violent crying.

Terra Bei Fong wept into hers silken pillow. She wore just a robe made of the same smooth fabric, hugging her curves and defined in the moonlight from outside. The only other light in the room was a single faux candle on the woman’s nightstand, wavering like an actual wick.

Black-leather gloved hands reached to the thin-bladed stiletto laying flat against his forearm. Closer,  
He could see the moonlight actually dancing on her shaking silken shoulders. Her crying meant nothing to him. Then the crying halted abruptly. 

He withdrew the bloody stiletto from the base of her skull. Blood welled where the blade had once been, pooling and dripping like an overflowing bowl. The crimson liquid on the weapon was wiped effortlessly on the blankets of Terra’s bed. 

Quiet as a wraithe, he pivoted and made to leave through the same window. 

“Who’s there?” a voice demanded. He turned, masked face facing to the door where the nursemaid had retreated. 

A young woman stared blankly at him from the doorway. For some reason, she didn’t scream like most would have. She did however take another step into the room, making him retreat. A floorboard creeked and the girl’s gray eyes narrowed.

Again she took a step forward. Her arms trailed behind her, a blindman’s cane in her right fist. “Where the fuck are you?” she growled and lashed out with her cane which he noticed was a lot thicker and heavier than most canes he’d ever seen.

He didn’t have time to move back and instinct took over. Time slowed as the weapon was swung at him, chest height. His spine bent backwards maintaining balance with his arm arm sweeping in half circle. Shadows pulsed as he gathered them, wrenching them from the floorboards of the room. The held on with clawed fingers but in the end it wa his will that won. As soon as the breeze of her cane passed, he made to straighten silmutaneously sling his right arm, almost flicking the shadows from his form.

They spun like a saw hitting the woman straight on. Her scream of outrage didn’t even phase him and he took that opportunity to bound to the balconey, haul himself onto the roof and melt into the dark.


	2. Keep running

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from ATLA. This work as created solely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.

A/N: Short chappy. Have more up soon..hopefully.  
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Katara Crowe narrowed her blue eyes at the recorded figure of Azula Chen on the greeting area of the parade float. It was Christmas time and the beautiful celebrity woman couldn’t let an opportunity to toot her own horn. The parade had been recorded the night before. 

“Now, now. Katara….Judge not thy neighbor.” The aged voice of Katara’s grandmother was as crisp as a bite into a spring apple. Barely suppressing the urge to make a face, the young nurse instead forged a smile in the burning pit of her hate for the Chen family. Of course, as she looked upon her Elder, Katara felt the smile slide in place.

“Sorry, Gran-Gran,” Katara breathed, offering to take the plate of crumbs from the elderly woman. Gran-Gran acquiesced politely, but her almost colorless eyes held a hint of mischief.  
Katara could feel eyes on her as she walked back to the kitchen.

“That girl lost her brother and mother, Katara.” 

“Good riddance,” the younger woman hissed under her breath.

Her work shoes squeaked on the clean kitchen linoleum floor. It was more like a kitchenette, having a stove, room for a sink and refrigerator included. Their apartment wasn’t that big or necessarily in the best part of town but it worked. She just had to make sure to deadbolt the door and sleep with a wooden baseball bat next her on the couch. Their room was too high for someone to climb in the windows. And had no fire escape. At least, not one that could support weight, so rusted was it.

Katara dumped the last of the crumbs of her grandmother’s breakfast pastry into the trash can. Then depositing the plate in the sink with a soft click of dishware, she turned and strode back into the living room area.

“I’m going to head to work, Gran-Gran,” she announced. “Sokka should be home from his shift soon. Will you be okay?”

Without turning her head, Gran-Gran said, “Of course, child. Now be gone so I can watch this parade.”

Although the command was said curtly, Katara could hear the smile in her grandma’s voice.  
“Don’t burn the place down,” were the nurse’s parting words. Hefting a satchel over her shoulder, Katara turned and grabbed her keys from the rack next to the door. She cast one blue eyed glance over her shoulder then closed the door securely behind her and locked it.

It was early in the morning. Around 5:30. While Katara had to be up to get to work by 6:30, Gran-Gran had always been an early riser ever since Katara’s childhood. 

Old floorboards creaked as she strode atop them, coming to the stairs then descending. As soon as her shoe hit the very bottom step, she fet vibration in her pocket. Had she forgotten something upstairs?

Katara peered at the screen for any indication of who would be calling her. Toph, it read.

“What in the world---?” she wondered aloud, having come to a complete halt in her journey to the bus stop.

“Hello,” she answered, having a bit more of a questioning inflection that she intended.

“Hey, Katara…”

“Toph? Are you alright?” Toph never called her by her name.

“Am I that obvious?” came the other woman’s dry humor. Without giving Katara a chance to respond, Toph went on, “Listen, something bad has happened.I hate to bother you but right now I think you’re the only one that can help me….”

“Toph, are you okay?” the nurse asked.

A sigh came through the phone’s speaker. 

“No, I’m not. I’ll explain when you get here. If you don’t mind coming...I’m at my dad’s penthouse. You know the place?” 

Katara nodded, who didn’t remember the awesome parties Toph Bei Fong had thrown when her parents were out of the country?

“Is it okay if I come after work? It shouldn’t be too busy today and I’m going in early. I’ll work through my lunch and breaks to get off earlier. See you around, 2:30 ish?”

There was shuffling and indistinguishable murmuring before Toph’s voice returned. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“See you then.”re

By now she had taken up her sojourn to the bus stop. Her feet knew the way of their own accord. 

What could have happened to Toph?

Biting her lip, the woman took her phone out again, this time calling a listing under the name “Sokka.”

“Pick up…” she willed into the phone until the phone indeed was picked up.

“I’m almost home, Katara. Just havin a chat with Jet.”

“That’s fine, Sokka. Um, listen, Toph just called me. She said she needs help with something…”

A silence on the other end of the phone made her skin prickle.

“Sokka?”

“Katara, you haven’t heard?”   
Shit.  
“No? Heard what?” a yawning hole was beginning to appear in the pit of her gut.

“Terra Bei Fong was killed last night…” 

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw it on the news this morning. They haven’t released any details but rumors say it was...a hitman.”

Katara gasped, the fear turning her stomach inside out. “Sokka, was it...it couldn’t be….” her voice trailed off.

“No, no. Katara, relax. I don’t think it was….that. The odds of it being that are small.” Sokka’s voice held a twinge of fear but it was gone before she was sure.

The woman ducked her head, looking out for anyone that might be watching her. Fortunately,she saw no one. But this knowledge didn’t stop her skin prickling or the hair on her neck from standing on end.

“Sokka just be careful. Please. Get home to Gran-Gran.” By now she was at the bus stop and the vehicle came to a halt by the curb. 

“I will ,sis. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, see you tonight, Sokka.” 

The call clicked off. The feeling of eyes watching her felt too intense to just be her imagination. Her dark blue eyes peered over her left shoulder.

And the clatter of what sounded like claws on stone pulled her attention further, turning her body to a dark alleyway right behind her. Right against the aged brick wall of a tenement building was a large dumpster. 

“Hello?” she asked, her hand reaching down to the water bottle in her satchel. Her fingers began to unscrew the lid, slowly. Just enough to allow her to flick it off with her thumb. Her breath wafted into the cold morning air, the clouds growing in size. 

Feeling the reassuring weight of the container gaver her a minute pang of reassurance. This time when she exhaled it was through her nose. Her brow furrowed and the distance between herself and the dumpster closed.

“I’m giving you one chance. “Come out now and I won’t...” her back stoone straighter, taking on a more authoritative tone. She rounded the far corner of the dumpster. “...hurt you?” Her voice rose as she took in the sight of an empty alley.Nothing. There was no one to be seen.

No one. The girl narrowed her eyes peering into the open dumpster and even beneath it. Only when she straightened did she tighten the lid back on her bottled water.

‘Could’ve just been a stray dog’, one part of her reasoned

‘Yeah , a big one. With really…..realy big claws.’

Before she could ponder the event further, the groaning of the bus engine pulled her awareness back to the bus stop. By now the clouds of breath coming from the girl’s mouth were smaller, spaced out. 

With a toss of her braided hair, Katara turned and walked to board the bus. Sparing a last minute glance back at the dumpster. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Harsh gasping could be heard in the alleyway. From around the corner of the dumpster which had seemed empty not thirty seconds before, peered a pale face. Pinched in agony and dripping with sweat, the face glanced further to peer at the spot the bus had been. Seeing that the strange girl was gone, Zuko rested his head back against the brick wall. 

He still wore the black garments of his night job but they appeared soaked around his abdomen area like sweat. Hearing and smelling no one else, the man pulled up the black cloth shirt. Straps and buckles of his lightweight armor clicked, as he peeled up the fabric.

A bullet wound and a large one. He needed to Shift to heal properly. Such a wound was not deadly to him, but it did hurt and could get infected. Another headache he didn’t need. He’d cauterized the wound earlier when he’d been running from his pursuers.

That had hurt too.

He’d found an area empty enough for a forced Shift and was about a third of the way doing so when that girl had heard him. Fortunately he could still grab the shadows since he was only part way Shifted.

One more look down at the wound assured him it would stay closed until he made it back to the lab. It was with a grimace he stood up collecting his swords to sheathe them across his back. He stayed low, pulling up his cowl and then slipping the laughing black demon mask over his own scarred face.

Once more he tugged at the shadows, pulling them up so they wavered slightly. Concealed as best he could underneath the layer of darkness, the man agily leaped atop the closed half of the dumpster, latching onto a fire escape. Pulling himself up, he ascended the fire-escape and put the nagging feeling of familiarity about the woman out of his mind.


End file.
